


With a Love Like Yours

by smithandrogers



Series: Western Belles [5]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, its loving Tilly Jackson hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2020-10-30 05:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandrogers/pseuds/smithandrogers
Summary: Tilly runs into trouble when you go to Valentine and you're there to comfort her.





	1. Polite Society, Valentine Style

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cowgirl_Lou (Louise2212)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louise2212/gifts).

> Per the prompt "how about something for Tilly? I was thinking something along the lines of the reader comforting her after running into one the Foreman gang while in Valentine" from the lovely [fangirl-ramblings](https://fangirl-ramblings.tumblr.com/)

You didn’t think much of it at first, watching Tilly walk towards the alley. Her and Karen had spent the past hour or so casing the saloon for men to rob while you and Mary Beth had gone the smarter route; latching on to the fanciest skirt you could find and looking for information instead of gold. But then, just before she disappeared around the corner of the building, she glanced back. Panic gathered in your stomach and settled there like a rock. “Arthur! I think Tilly…”

He was pushing past you before all the fearful thoughts could come spilling out.

For all the time you had known Tilly, she had always been the strongest among the girls. She’d lived a hard life but she hadn’t let it harden her. She was funny and kind and always quick to defend you. When she held your hand, she was sweet, and when she whispered in your ear, she was gentle and when she kissed your lips it was always soft… but for one singular, harrowing moment as she disappeared from sight, dragged forward roughly by the arm you had seen something you had never seen in Tilly: fear.

The panic and distress that coiled around your insides like a snake didn’t lessen when she reappeared with Arthur. It was not lulled as she quickly crossed the muddy street and sat down next to you on the bench. It remained still as she rested her head on your shoulder and her fingers intertwined with yours. “Are you alright?” you murmured, despite knowing what the answer was.

“It’s…”

And then Arthur was back with Karen who was sporting a fat lip and a black eye, and it was gone. Tilly was Tilly again, and she was on her feet, leading Karen to the wagon. Your watched her silently on the ride back to camp as she fussed over Karen. She smiled and joked and used soothing words, but you couldn’t get the image of her fear out of your head, and you knew that she was thinking about it too. Her smile was tight, her grip on Karen’s arm a little rough, and never once did she look you in the eyes.

As soon as your feet had touched the ground that was camp, you whisked her away. Karen would be fine; Tilly was your concern. She let you lead her over to the overlook and pull her down into the grass next to you. You looked out over the Dakota River, sitting in silence for a moment. “Are you alright?” you ask again, softly.

She snorted. “If there is anything I have learned in this life, it’s how to deal with men who don’t take no for an answer.”

You look over at her, raising an eyebrow. That wasn’t an answer to your question and she knew it. After a moment, she sighed and took your hand. You pull her towards you and she lays down, resting her head in your lap, looking up at you. “We can spend our lives thinking about what ifs,” She said, tracing circles on the back of your hand, “What if Arthur wasn’t there today; what if I had never met Dutch… but if you keeping thinking about all that, you’ll miss out on,” she motioned towards camp and the vista, “All this.”

“Tilly, I saw you. You were so…”

“Afraid? I was, for a minute, and then I turned and I saw you and Arthur, and…” She brings your hand to her lips. “I’m fine, and I’ll be fine, long as I have you.”

You frowned and blushed at the same time. Her words were touching and romantic and sounded as if she had plucked them straight out of one of Mary Beth’s books. “Tilly, you’re allowed to be upset. I know it was those Foreman boys. I know what they’ve done to you.”

She wriggles and repositions herself so she’s sitting in your lap, her arms snaking around your waist and her head resting in the crook of your neck. “And with a love like yours, darling,” She says, nuzzling against you, “None of it really matters. Just hold me, and I’ll be fine.”

So you hold her tight, because really, there’s nothing else you want to do more in the world.


	2. No, No and Thrice No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again you comfort Tilly after an encounter with the Foremans

Sun filtered in through the gritty windows. Tilly and you sat in silence on the piano bench in the front room of Shady Belle. You held her hands in yours and with a wet cloth, you gently clean the wounds of today’s horrors. Her knuckles are split and bruised. Grit and blood are embedded under finger nails. She shakes slightly… or maybe you’re the one whose shaking… it’s hard to tell. Your hands are no better off than hers, but she had little left in her to fight your urge to take care of her first. Her eyes are red and puffy and wet lines through the dust that settled on her skin proved all tears she had shed.

Your breath comes in shudders, partially from the sadness that hollowed out your insides and partly from the fatigue. Hours ago, fury had raged through your veins like fire; you’d been an unstoppable force. You’d felt as if you could tear a man in half and you nearly had… but now all that energy and anger had faded and you were left skittish and desperately wanting to hold the woman you loved.

But she didn’t want to be held. She didn’t want to be touched. So you watched her hands intently, ignoring the water that dripped from the cloth onto your skirts, and memorized every feature, your hands moving as gently as you could manage. She stared out the window over your shoulder, watching the sun as it sank low and as a gentle breeze rocked the trees that drooped lazily around the crumbling plantation home.

You both ignored Arthur, who had spent the entire time you had been back in camp hovering about the halls; pacing up and down and walking past either doorway so he could check on the pair of you. He was like a hound dog: reliable, persistent and empathetic, and ready to scare off anyone who might disturb you two. His constant footsteps made a comforting rhythm, cutting through the incoherent cacophony that was buzzing insects, bellowing gators and Dutch’s gramophone upstairs.

You finished working on her hands and began to focus on her wrists, burnt and cut from the ropes that had bound her. She hissed as you touched the cloth to the ragged, injured skin. “I’m sorry.” You say quickly.

You move to pull away to give her a moment, but she grabs your wrists, keeping you close. “You know,” She said quietly, eyes meeting yours, “I… I could never thank you enough for… for coming for me.”

Fat, hot tears stream down your cheeks and drop down, splashing against your blouse. Thank you? She didn’t need to thank you! You should have been more vigilant! You should have been faster! She didn’t… Emotions well up inside you live a flood, overwhelming your thoughts but you take a shaky breath and swallow them. “No.” You say firmly, “No ‘thank you’s. No ‘I’m sorry’s. I’ll have none of it.” You said as sharply as you could manage, “I did not beat a man near to death because I expected an apology.”

You watch her as she looks at you, taken aback, for a moment trying to gather all the of the right words to say. “I love you, Tilly. I do what I do because I love you. Having you back… knowing you’re safe… that’s all the I need.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks once more, but this time they were accompanied by a relieved smile. “And you,” She said softly, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against yours, “You’re all I need.”

A relief washes over you. She sounded more like herself. You were about to say something when you could hear a small voice from the next room over. “Uncle Arthur… are you… crying?”

You and Tilly both remain still, remembering that Arthur would have heard everything you had said to each other. “No.” Came Arthur’s hastily grunted reply.

You both giggled softly to yourselves, knowing he was lying. The man’s heart was soft, even if he would never admit it. “I love you, Tilly Jackson.”

She sighed, looking relaxed for the first time since you had got back to camp. “And I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I really think that at this point, Tilly wouldn't really open up about the Foreman brothers... however... I now realize that there will probably be a second part to this...
> 
> Have any ideas for other lovely ladies of Red Dead? Comment below or message me on [tumblr](https://smithandrogers.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
